


It’s a Uniform Thing.

by Ultra_chrome



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-02
Updated: 2007-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultra_chrome/pseuds/Ultra_chrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Frase? You ever think about doing Turnbull?” </p><p>It was pretty obvious something hit a nerve there, because Fraser got about three inches taller in his seat and turned a rather endearing shade of pink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s a Uniform Thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Get Turnbull Laid challenge on Livejournal. I had a rough time writing this one and owe a huge debt of kittens and cookies to Heartofdavid and Nobelnomis for their support and criticism and general awesomeness.

 

“Ray! Ray! Ray! Ray!”

Ray snapped his head around quickly to see that Fraser was seated in the car next to him. Dief was already in the back and he wondered how that had all happened while he was watching Turnbull doing absolutely nothing. He blinked a couple of times and shook his head before he noticed that Fraser was all brown instead of red and wondered if he’d fallen into some weird space time thing and come out in two different places at once.

“What’s with the brown thing, Frase?” He asked, sneaking another quick look at the consulate door and the motionless Mountie standing beside it.

“Oh, there was a minor incident with a pot of tea and a rather large chocolate cake this morning, the upshot of which is that I needed to change into my other uniform and Constable Turnbull was rostered on to guard duty for the remainder of the day. Well, once we managed to stop him wailing over the state of the carpet and my serge and Inspector Thatcher’s…” Fraser cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Diefenbaker was more than happy to help with the clean up, but has subsequently been banished from the Inspector’s office for the foreseeable future.”

“Heh, dogs have all the fun, don’t they?”  
“Yes, Ray, I believe they do.” They smiled at each other and Ray started the car, pulled out into the line of traffic and then placed one hand comfortably on Fraser’s thigh. Fraser placed his own over it and pulled it up a little higher.

In the back seat, Diefenbaker groaned in disgust. Fraser turned to say something about him having no right to criticise after where he’d had had his tongue earlier when he noticed his father in the back seat, resplendent in red serge and Stetson and not looking nearly dead enough. He sighed and waited for the ghost to speak. He didn’t have to wait long.

“What? You don’t even have a hello for your father?” Bob said in his most hurt tone.  
“Not now, no. Your timing is appalling.”  
Up front, Ray said, “The wolf need a pit stop?”  
“No, Ray, I’m sure he can wait until we stop. He only went a few minutes before you arrived.”

“The yank was ogling your subordinate, son. You’d be wise to call him on that before he makes a habit of it.” The older Fraser sat back with a smug expression.  
“He was not!” Fraser replied in a righteous tone and promptly faced front.  
“Was, too.” said the ghost.  
“Was not what?” asked Ray.  
“Never mind, Ray.” said Fraser.  
“Okaaay.” Said Ray in a voice that was one step away from calling him a freak.

There was a moment of blessed silence in the car until they stopped at a red light. Ray cracked his neck, peeked over at Fraser, looked back at the road in front, and asked in an unusually subdued voice, “Ben? Can I ask you a question?”  
In the back, Bob raised his eyebrows in mock horror and said, “He called you Ben. It’s going to get personal, son. Maybe I should leave.”  
“Now would be a good time for that, yes,” replied Fraser snippily as he stared out the side window.  
“No need to bite my head off, son. I’m going.”  
“No need to bite my head off, Frase. It’s just a question.” Ray sniped back.  
“I’m sorry, Ray, it’s been a trying morning. What would you like to know?” He looked back to make sure the seat behind was, indeed free from the ghost of Mounties past and breathed a sigh of relief when he found Dief sprawled out comfortably.

Ray took his hand from Fraser’s thigh and ran it through his hair. He opened his mouth and closed it again often enough to look like a fish out of water and the light turned green before he’d said a word.

Once they were moving again, Ray found the words he needed and let them out in a rush. “Frase? You ever think about doing Turnbull?” It was pretty obvious something hit a nerve there, because Fraser got about three inches taller in his seat and turned a rather endearing shade of pink.  
“In what tense, Ray?” he asked primly. And that was almost enough of an answer on its own, but Ray wanted details.  
“Any. All of them. Have you ever thought about doing Turnbull? Do you still think about doing Turnbull? And the answer to that better be no, or I’ll kick you in the head.”  
“There’s no need for violence, Ray.”  
“So you mean you did, but don’t now?”  
“Why are you asking me this?” Fraser sounded a little bit strangled there. So of course, Ray had to push the point.  
“Doesn’t matter, answer the question.”  
“Renfield Turnbull is a very attractive man, Ray.”  
Ray laughed, “Renfield. That’s just… Canadians are cruel to children, Fraser.”  
“And your father wasn’t?” Fraser looked serene all of a sudden, as Ray frowned.  
“Don’t change the subject, Fraser.” He grumbled.  
“I didn’t. I believe that was you.”

Ray nodded, but didn’t agree outright. “So…you think he’s hot. You sure it’s not just a uniform thing?”  
“Quite certain.”  
But Ray just ploughed on as if Fraser hadn’t answered him. “Reason I ask is, I know you go all…gooey and stuff when the Ice Queen puts the uniform on, and hey, everybody’s got a thing for Mounties, am I right?”  
“You’re telling the story, Ray. _Does_ everybody have a thing for Mounties?” Fraser sat back in his seat and waited for the answer with a look of amusement.  
“Anybody with a pulse, anyway.” Ray grinned and indicated for a right turn. “So? You want to tell me how you know it’s not a uniform thing?”  
“Not particularly.”  
“Why not, Frase?”  
“It’s a moot point, Ray. I am currently in an exclusive relationship, as you well know, since you are the other party, and as such I feel it is inappropriate of me to discuss the…physical merits of another man.”  
“With the other party.” Ray added.  
“Exactly.” Fraser declared with a note of finality. He obviously thought that was the end of it.

Ray turned the corner a little faster than he really needed to, just to get Fraser off balance, before he dove back into the discussion Fraser didn’t want to be having with him.  
“So you admit Turnbull has physical merits. You _do_ still think about doing him! I knew it.”  
“Ray!”  
“You have dirty little I-want-to-fuck-Turnbull thoughts while he brings you cups of tea and you say, ‘Thank you kindly,’ but you want to say, ‘Hey Renfield! Blow me.’ Isn’t that so, Frase?”  
“Ray!”  
“What?”  
“Shut up.”  
Ray just laughed and let sleeping dogs lie. For now.

By the time they got back to Ray’s apartment that night Fraser was looking like a cornered animal. Ray hadn’t said another word about Turnbull all afternoon and clearly, he expected the conversation to resurface at any moment, which Ray figured must mean there was a reason he didn’t want to talk about it. Ray wasn’t a detective for nothing, he could detect and here he detected a lot more than just Fraser not wanting to have a pointless discussion about the level of Turnbull’s hotness. Even logically, you could figure that much out, but Ray had a _hunch_ that Fraser had something to hide and he trusted his hunches with his life.

He just needed a while to figure out the best way to tackle it. So he kept saying nothing all through dinner. He kept the conversation light and fluffy all through Dief’s nightly walk and after that, he had more….pressing things to think about. Besides, he couldn’t really bring it up with a mouthful of Ben anyway.

Afterwards, he just couldn’t do the normal come-your-brains-out-and-fall-asleep thing. He tried, because it wouldn’t really be fair to expect Fraser to want to talk about stuff after what they just did, but he rationalized it by deciding that Fraser wouldn’t sleep well with him all fidgety, even if Fraser did normally sleep like the dead. Literally. On his back with his hands clasped on his stomach. Which used to give Ray a fright when he woke up and looked over and the light through the window was all blue. All the blueness sort of concentrated on Fraser’s lips and cheek bones and the rest was all dark and shadowy. Plus, Fraser was so still when he slept. No twitching or mumbling to give him any sign of life. The man didn’t even snore! Ray had learned pretty quick that if you snuggled into Fraser, Fraser snuggled back, but if you didn’t? You shared the bed with a freaky looking lump. Hot, but freaky.

So he tried to think up some nice, gentle way to ask how often Fraser imagined his dick in some part of Turnbull, but he just couldn’t. There was no nice way to ask that. So he tried a different tack.  
“Frase?” he said, because if he said “Ben” then Fraser would figure it out pretty quick.  
“Mmm?” That was the nearly asleep voice there, and Ray almost felt guilty for a moment. Almost.  
“You know how you’re a constable?”  
“Mmm.” Okay, that was less asleep sounding and a tiny bit suspicious, so Fraser was onto him already.  
“Well, how come Turnbull calls you Sir when he’s a constable, too?”  
Fraser sighed and sat up, propping his pillows behind his back, so Ray used Fraser’s thighs for his own pillow, just to keep it less like a confrontation and more like…pillow talk. Which was something he thought he’d seen the last of when Stella booted him out, but no. Pillow talk was like vegetables: you couldn’t avoid it forever.

“I have seniority, Ray, both at the consulate and as a member of the RCMP.”  
“Yeah, but he doesn’t have to do it when we go to the movies and stuff, does he?”  
“No. But you don’t have to call me Fraser and you still do. I imagine it’s a moniker he’s comfortable with, and so he uses it.” Fraser placed a hand on Ray’s head and gently ruffled his hair. “Why are you so interested in Turnbull all of a sudden?”  
Trust Fraser to turn it around on him and get to the real point before he was ready for it.  
“I’m not. Not really. I was just…”  
“Just what, Ray?”  
“You know. Just looking. While I was waiting for you to come out and play with me.” He stroked Ben’s thigh next to his cheek and watched as the fine hairs there stood on end. “He’s kinda hot, in a you know, dorky sorta way.”

Fraser chuckled and asked, “Are you sure it’s not a uniform thing, Ray?”  
“Could be, Frase. Everybody loves a Mountie. You know how it is.” He was pleased to hear that Ben didn’t sound jealous at all. It meant that he trusted Ray and that was good. So he bit Ben’s thigh, gave a mock growl and wriggled back to his own side of the bed. The air was clear enough to sleep now.

He rolled onto his side and held the covers up for Fraser to get under with him and when Fraser rolled on his side, too, Ray snuggled up behind him and kissed the back of his neck. “Night, Ben.”  
“Goodnight, Ray.” Fraser replied as he pushed his ass further back into Ray’s groin and got comfortable.

 

*************************

The following Thursday Ray walked into the foyer of the consulate with his arms full of sandwiches and bottles of iced tea and stuff, just in time to hear Fraser say, “Thank you, Turnbull,” from way down the hallway, followed by the sound of a closing door.

He stood there as Turnbull came back toward the front with his eyes downcast and mumbling, “It’s my pleasure, Sir.”  
He didn’t look too pleased, but Ray thought maybe lunch would fix that, so he called out. “Is it lunch time in Canada yet?” and Turnbull looked up so suddenly that he lost control of his feet and tripped over the rug, stumbling and falling squarely at Ray’s feet. He got to his hands and knees, looked up sheepishly and pasted on his brightest smile. “Detective Vecchio! What a lovely surprise. Let me help you with those packages.”  
Ray laughed aloud, but it was a warm laugh.  
“They teach you to be polite on your knees at the academy, or is that just a queer Canadian thing?” he asked.  
Turnbull stood up in one quick movement and straightened himself and his uniform. He was blushing and Ray wondered how it was that someone so graceful could be so ungainly at the same time. It just didn’t make sense. The guy moved like a cat one minute and tripped over his own feet the next. It made Ray wonder if he could dance.

Turnbull just stood at attention in front of him, blushing and very obviously trying to find an answer to the question that Ray had asked him. He wasn’t succeeding, so Ray took pity on him.  
“I bought lunch. There’s, like salmon and roast beef and stuff, but they don’t got caribou or whale blubber. Sorry.”  
That snapped Turnbull out of his freak out. “I’m sure you know, Ray, that not all Canadians eat caribou and whale blubber. Some of us even know how to cook other animals, and we have been known to indulge in the odd vegetarian dish.” He was smiling as he began taking bottles out of Ray’s arms and placing them on the desk.

“Yeah?” said Ray, entering into the spirit. “So you eat berries and moss and stuff, too then. That’s pretty cool there, Renfield.”  
And just like that, Turnbull got all clumsy again and the bottle he placed on the desk went skittering over the edge and rolled along the floor. Ray dropped the sandwiches in a pile and went after the bottle at the same time Turnbull did and they ended up colliding. Ray grabbed Turnbull’s Sam Browne to stop himself falling backwards with the impact. Turnbull grabbed Ray’s arms and they stood there for a moment, Ray laughing and Turnbull blushing.

“Detective Vecchio!” That was the Ice Queen and she did not sound pleased to see him.  
“Uh, hi.” Ray let go of the wall of Mountie in front of him. “I was just… I bought lunch.”  
“I see. And do you think that gives you the right to…embrace my constables in the foyer?”  
“I wasn’t.” He thought about explaining, but she was standing there looking all pissy and superior and she wasn’t even Ray’s boss, so he didn’t have to be nice. “I can if you want me to, though.”  
“That won’t be necessary, detective.” She snapped.

 

*****************************

  
Fraser had finally managed to get his stapler back from Turnbull, almost out of staples, but polished to a beautiful sheen that shouldn’t be possible for a plastic surface. All that was left to do was place a staple in each of the neat piles he had set out in front of him and he would be free to spend his afternoon doing actual police work with Ray.

He was reprimanding himself for counting the seconds when he heard a knock from the inside of his closet door. That was odd. If his father wanted to see him, he generally just showed up. Usually at the worst possible time and with absolutely nothing worthwhile to say. He listened carefully, and there it was again.

Sighing deeply he stood up and pulled open the door abruptly. His father stood there, in long johns and dressing gown, hand raised to knock again. “Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder if you were in.”  
“Dad, this is the door to your cabin. You’re inside it. Why would you knock to get out?”  
“It’s also the door to your office, son.”  
“True enough,” replied Fraser with a duck of his head and a shuffle of his feet. “What can I do for you, Dad?”  
“You can come in and shut the door for starters. I’m in my pyjamas, in case you hadn’t noticed. Can’t have the whole world seeing me like this.”  
“I’m the only one who can see you at all.”  
“That’s not the point, son. A man should still take pride in his appearance, even when he’s dead.”  
That made a twisted kind of sense, so Fraser nodded and entered the cabin, closing the closet door firmly behind him. He sat in front of the fire that was always raging here and put his hands out to warm them, more from habit than any real need for warmth.

Bob Fraser leant against his desk and regarded his son for a moment before he spoke.  
“Did I ever tell you that Buck Frobisher was sweet on your mother back before we were married?”  
“No, you never did.”  
“Oh, yes. He was quite keen on her. We used to compete for her attention. Quite juvenile, really.”  
“I can imagine.” Fraser didn’t have to try too hard, knowing both men as he did.  
“She showed some interest in him, too. Enough to make me doubt her feelings for me. In fact, she even knitted him a pair of socks. They had beavers on them. I was most annoyed. She had never knitted anything for me.”  
“There’s a point to this, isn’t there?” asked Fraser, his mind still half on getting out of the office and into Ray’s company.  
“There’s always a point, son.”  
“And yours is…?”  
“I had to let her choose. It was no good me getting on my high horse and making a scene about the beaver socks. I had to trust that she was honest with me when she told me I had a special place in her heart. Of course, saving her life may have tipped the scales in my favour, but that’s neither here nor there.”  
“What exactly are you trying to say, Dad?”  
“At the risk of sounding like a greeting card, if you love someone, son, you’ve got to set them free. Then if they come back, you’ll know they’re yours. If they don’t…”  
“They never were?” Fraser looked pained at the possibility.  
“Well, either that or they were taken by a polar bear, but that’s not likely to be the case here.”  
“No. Not in Chicago, Dad.”  
“The principle’s the same, son. You don’t have to send your partner into danger without you, but you have to let him make his own decisions.”

“I see. You’re interfering in my love life. That’s just…great. Advice from a man whose forte was absence until he had an excuse, and now he won’t go away.”  
“There’s no call for cattiness, Benton.”  
“Oh. Well, pardon me, then. I’ll be going now.”  
“One more thing, son.”  
“What would that be, Dad?” Fraser asked with false sincerity.  
“Honesty in matters of the heart, son. It’s more important than all the good intentions in the world.”

Fraser nodded tiredly and went back out to his office. The man really was a busy body. Being dead was obviously not enough of a challenge for a legendary Mountie.

He finished his stapling and grabbed his hat, just as he heard Inspector Thatcher yell at Ray.

 

****************************

 

Ray wasn’t aware that Fraser was standing in the hallway, looking at him with his hands on Turnbull and Turnbull just pulling away to stand at attention. Didn’t see the look on Fraser’s face when Ray offered to embrace Turnbull for the Ice Queen. If he had, he would have known the expression right away. It was the one that always went right to his dick. The one where Fraser’s eyes went all dark and heavy lidded and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, which stayed parted just a little, like he was getting prepared to start panting and moaning or something. Ray had been seeing that look quite a lot during the last few months.

He didn’t see it, so he just stood right there and grinned his smartass grin and offered to embrace the Ice Queen instead, if she’d prefer that. She didn’t, which didn’t surprise him, since he knew she thought he was some kind of bug that one had to endure when living in Chicago. He was cool with that, though, because he didn’t think he’d enjoy frost bite anyway.

So they all stood there a little awkwardly, Ray looking at his shoes, Turnbull rocking on his feet and looking at the wall and the Ice Queen pretending not to appear interested in the sandwiches piled on Turnbull’s desk.

There was a bark from behind Fraser and Diefenbaker shot down the hallway, jumping up at Ray and stretching to lick his face, so Ray leaned down and presented his ear, because that was better than accidentally getting frenched by a half wolf, even if you had a better chance of knowing where his tongue had been than you did with his owner.

And then Fraser was clearing his throat and striding toward them with a pleasant smile, saying, “Ray! You’re early.” Which broke the ice and got everyone moving and back to their normal selves. So after a bit of sandwich swapping and Dief running from person to person to smell who had his favourite, they all went to their usual places and Ray followed Fraser down to his office. Dief almost followed Thatcher, but she must have been deadly serious about him not being welcome in her office and he trailed after Fraser and Ray with his tail between his legs.

Once they were settled and Ray had pulled off his crusts, being careful to leave some mayo on them for Dief, Fraser spoke.  
“As pleased as I am to have the opportunity to share a leisurely lunch with you, Ray, I can’t help but wonder as to your motives.”  
“A guy can’t bring the love of his life some lunch, Frase?”  
Fraser smiled shyly at the casual reference to Ray’s feelings for him, but wouldn’t be deterred. “Well, yes he can, but that doesn’t explain why you would bring enough for everyone.”  
“International relations, my friend. You’re always going on about how we need to endanger good… stuff with our neighbours and all that.”  
“Engender.”  
“What’s gender got to do with it, Fraser?”  
“No Ray, _en_ gender, you said….never mind.”  
Ray smirked with his mouth full, he knew exactly what he’d said, but it was fun to watch Fraser try not to explain it to him.

They ate in silence for a while and Ray could tell Fraser wanted to ask him something, but wasn’t quite ready to spit it out. The guy could take days to get to the point sometimes, but Ray figured he could give him until tonight, at least, and then he’d drag it out of him any way he had to.

 

******************************

So they were back to pillow talk, only this time Fraser started it. Ray was flat on his belly with his arms above his head and his face smooshed sideways into the pillow. He was still trying to catch his breath and even thinking about moving out of the wet spot, but he wasn’t quite up to that yet.

Fraser came back from the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed, all prim and proper like he hadn’t just fucked Ray into something like a coma, and handed Ray a damp wash cloth. Which gave Ray enough of a clue that something was up, because Fraser always did the clean up himself. So Ray rolled over, took the cloth and asked, “What’s up, Ben?” as he swiped at his belly with the rapidly cooling cloth.  
“Ray, you know I love you, don’t you?”  
“Yeah, I know that. You even let me top sometimes, so I know that.” He narrowed his eyes and bit his lip, but didn’t push. This was bad, Fraser starting out like that. Could mean anything.

Fraser crawled back into the bed and pulled Ray close, so they both shared the clean side of the bed before he continued. “You know I trust you, with my life?”  
“In your own sick, twisted way, yeah, but do you trust me with everything else, too?”  
“Even more so, Ray. I know you would never do anything to hurt me, which is why I feel we need to talk.”

Ray’s heart sped up a little then, and not in a good way. Fraser was taking too long to get the next words out and Ray couldn’t not push anymore. He had to know what was going on.  
“C’mon, Frase. Spit it out before you give a guy a heart attack, okay?”  
All in a rush, Fraser did just that. “I apologise for jumping on you as soon as we got in tonight, but I saw you with Turnbull in the foyer today and I’ve been thinking about it all day. I couldn’t control myself. I’m sorry.”

Ray didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried. “So…uh…you were jealous and you had to mark your territory?”  
“Not exactly, Ray, no. Although that may play some small part in provoking my…ardour.”  
“Not that I was getting it on with him, Frase, but if I was…does that get you all hot and bothered in a good way?”  
“Yes, Ray. Very much so, I’m afraid.”  
“Heh, go figure” Ray grinned into Fraser’s shoulder. “So if I, like, kissed Turnbull in front of you, you’d what? Drag me off to your office and do me on the desk?”  
“No. At least not during working hours.” There was amusement in that remark and Ray stopped worrying. This was fantasy talk; he could do that. He was good at that. Best of all, the edge was off now, so they could talk all night and maybe Ben would get hot enough to go for another round later.

“Ben?”  
“Mmmm?”  
“Order us some pizza; you need to get your strength up.”  
“Understood.”  
Ray could hear Fraser chuckling quietly as he slipped out of bed.

He kept it pretty tame while they waited for the pizza to arrive, because Sandor had to be getting a clue by now and he didn’t want to traumatise the guy by having him turn up to find a Mountie ravishing his most regular customer. Plus, Ray had a bad guy image to maintain here, and it was hard to do that when you were blissfully fucked out.

So he concentrated on making bark tea for Fraser and he fed Dief and the turtle while Fraser sat on the couch and watched him.  
“You’re being particularly attentive to my comforts all of a sudden, Ray. Not that I’m complaining, but…it’s disconcerting.”

Ray smiled widely, “It’s the dolphins. Great sex, dolphins come, Ray gets all sweet for a while. Make the most of it.”  
“Dolphins, Ray?”  
“Yeah. Feel good things in your head, Frase.” Ray waited for the lecture. He almost got it, too.  
“Ah, endorphins.” Fraser’s eyes crinkled and he flicked his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. He was trying to keep a straight face. “Did you know dolphins live in chocolate, too?”  
“No, Fraser, I did _not_ know that. Wow. You learn something new every day, huh?”  
“If you’re lucky, yes.” And then Fraser actually laughed. Ray thought his day was as good as it could get.

He even did some housework while Fraser ogled him and waited for the pizza. It felt kinda weird being stared at like that, but he knew Fraser had a thing for watching. He sometimes made Ray get himself off, just so he could sit there and _look._ Wouldn’t even let Ray touch him when he got like that. Not until after Ray’d come and then he’d just dive in and lick it all up before he let Ray blow him. Which was pretty queer, in Ray’s opinion, but if it worked for Fraser, it worked for him.

So he made a bit of a show about it, leaning over further than he needed to so his sweat pants clung to his ass. The coffee table got the best polish of its life and Ray got a sure indication of how much Fraser liked his ass. He even had the teeth marks to prove it.

The bombshell dropped about the time Ray was stealing pineapple off Fraser’s pizza and relocating it to his own slice. Fraser just smiled indulgently instead of slapping Ray’s hand away like usual and that made it not fun anymore. It also made it pretty clear that Fraser was being too nice to him, which meant he felt guilty about something and Ray didn’t know if he wanted to know what it was.

The thing with Fraser and guilt though, was that you never got to stay oblivious, because the guy had a strange compulsion to confess to everything. He could keep his trap shut with anybody’s secrets but his own. So Ray was expecting something, but he wasn’t expecting this.  
“Turnbull and I have had… intimate relations in the past.”

Just like that, no _“Ray, I need to tell you something.”_ Or _“You know how you asked if I thought about it?”_ No. Just BAM! _“I fucked Turnbull and I didn’t tell you when you asked.”_ Or close enough. And Ray had no clue how to deal with that. None at all. So he just sat there and stared at Fraser, knowing he looked mad as hell and really not caring, because he was. Maybe madder. He just didn’t know if it was because Fraser had done Turnbull, or because he hadn’t told Ray about it. Or it could even be both. He just didn’t know yet.

Fraser touched him gently on the knee and Ray jumped up from the couch as if he’d been burned.  
“Don’t!” he choked, “Just… you didn’t think I needed to know that?”  
“It was before us, Ray. I didn’t think it was relevant.”  
“I asked you. I asked if you ever thought about it. You couldn’t have said, ‘Actually, Ray, I’ve done more than think about it,’ or anything?”  
“I’m telling you now.”  
“No, Fraser. This is not telling. This is…this is dropping it on me. From a great height.”  
“I’m sorry, Ray. I should have been more tactful about it, but I thought…in light of our earlier discussion, I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Ray was pacing now, and Fraser looked like a kicked puppy, but it was his own stupid fault. “That was just talk. Like making up stories and _imagining_ , you know. Hypothetical.”  
“I said I was sorry. It was casual. Nothing at all like us and it’s over. I didn’t realise you expected me to be celibate before you, Ray.”  
“Jesus, Ben. No way did I think that. The things you do…I just… Turnbull?”  
“Yes. Turnbull.”  
Ray sat heavily on the couch next to Fraser and really looked at him. He had on his stubborn face. Like he was sorry Ray was upset, but he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and that was better than kicked puppy Fraser. That was the guy he knew. It calmed him down enough to think about it. Plus, if there was any possible reason for Fraser to feel guilty about something, he would, so Ray knew he wasn’t thinking with his head here.

He thought about how Fraser said it was before he started this thing they had going, and he thought about how Fraser at least told him now, instead of keeping it to himself forever. And then he thought about Fraser standing there with Turnbull on his knees and he figured there was at least one part of him that was okay with this. That part was still pretty much in charge these days, what with this still being new and Fraser knowing just how to make that part feel important, so he had to pay attention to it, didn’t he?

But there was one thing he had to know. “You ever let him top, Frase?”  
“No, Ray. Never.” Fraser looked so openly into Ray’s eyes when he said that and Ray was sold. He could live with it. Hell, he could maybe even jerk off over it if he ever needed to jerk off again in his life. Which was pretty unlikely seeing as how Fraser was all about making sure Ray got more than he gave.

It wasn’t like he totally bounced back from it, though. The thought of Fraser fucking some other guy still vaguely bothered him, even if it was the guy Ray had been entertaining smutty thoughts about lately. It was kind of like when you skinned your knee and it stopped hurting and turned into an itchy sort of tightness. The stage where you started picking the scab to see if was going to bleed again, just because you couldn’t stand the discomfort anymore.

So he picked.

“So. Casual, huh?” Ray tried to sound nonchalant, but thought he just come over wary. “Are you even capable of casual?”  
“In the right circumstances I’m capable of almost anything.” Fraser replied. “I thought you knew that, Ray.”  
“Yeah, that’s you. Mr Adaptability, but you now what I mean. What was it? Like, once? Twice? How many times, Frase?”  
Fraser hesitated, cleared his throat with a little cough and looked at the floor. “Twenty-seven.”

Ray’s jaw dropped. “Twenty –seven? That’s not casual, that’s like…so not casual it’s….wait! You counted?”  
“Not intentionally. I simply remember details as a matter of course, as you know. It appears to be a fault I can’t shake.”  
“Freak.”  
“I know. I’m aware of that, Ray.”

Ray stood and headed for the bathroom. He needed some time to think about this. Alone time. Since he also needed a shower, it made sense to do both at once.

Under the hot spray, he relaxed and let his mind wander. He could see a guy with Fraser’s sex drive needing casual outlets, and it made sense to stick to one guy if you could. Took a lot of the bullshit out of the equation. Plus, if Turnbull was any good….

Yeah, he’d be good. Ray’d bet money on it. The guy was even more anal about details that Fraser. Pun intended. If you got over the clumsiness, which Ray sort of thought might be shyness gone mad, he was surprisingly graceful. And strong. Ray liked strong.

He thought about that for a minute and both his heads came to the same conclusion. He wouldn’t mind having a go ‘round with Turnbull. Not one little bit. He made a snap decision and before he thought about it too hard, he yelled, “Fraser! Get in here!”

And that’s how he ended up leaning back against the shower wall with his hand on his dick, telling Fraser that he wanted to have Turnbull over for Chinese or something and, if Fraser was a very good boy, he might even let him watch while Turnbull fucked Ray stupid. From the look on Fraser’s face and the way he groaned at the last bit, Ray figured that was a yes. Provided Turnbull was interested.

 

*******************************

Fraser wasn’t exactly late for work the next morning. He just didn’t arrive twenty minutes before he was due to start. He blamed Ray for this.

First Ray had wanted to be sure that Fraser knew he wasn’t merely fantasizing last night, and then he’d wanted to be certain that Fraser was actually willing to go through with it and not just humouring him. Once he’d been reassured on both counts he had a ridiculously long list of questions about Turnbull’s physical attributes and personal preferences, which were easy enough to interpret as, “Do you think he’ll want to do me?”

It had all culminated in him having to actually _show_ Ray how attractive he was. Apparently, even his use of the longest words he could think of were not enough on this occasion. His walking thesaurus impersonation had only inspired Ray to greater insecurity, or greater arousal and play acting; he wasn’t entirely sure which. But whatever the reason, Fraser had found himself in a position of having to dress for work twice that morning, hence his almost lateness.

As if that was not enough to set him off on the wrong foot for the entire day, Ray had called him back to the car and suggested that he invite Turnbull over that night.

Turnbull was already at his desk as Fraser entered, and beamed through his usual, “Good morning, Sir, I trust you slept well?” Fraser decided to take the bull by the horns and ask Turnbull if he would be interested in joining Ray and himself for dinner and…entertainment. He cleared his throat and leaned over the desk, “Renfield, if I may ask you a personal question?”

Before he got an answer, the door burst open and Inspector Thatcher strode in with her arms full of files. “Good morning, Constable. Constable.” She nodded over her load and dropped it unceremoniously on the desk as both men stood to attention and said, “Sir.”

And just like that, the opportunity was lost. Turnbull was set to filing and Fraser had the usual interminable piles of forms to deal with. It occurred to him that people ought to take more care with their passports and perhaps a forest could be saved. He thought a public service announcement to that effect would be prudent.

The whistling of a kettle alerted him to the fact that it was morning tea time. Turnbull was mysteriously absent from the kitchen, so he poured water over the leaves that were already waiting in the pot and set about getting the tray ready. It was a task he had been thankfully relieved of in recent months, by virtue of Turnbull’s overwhelming desire to mother everyone. He thought perhaps his co-worker would be better suited to other professions and it occurred to him that he had never enquired as to why Turnbull had chosen a career in the RCMP.

As he walked carefully down the hall to the Inspector’s office, he heard Turnbull’s voice, “Well, Sir, if I may speak freely, it would be entirely unnecessary for me to do that. Some enchanted evening you might meet a stranger…”  
“Turnbull!” Inspector Thatcher sounded more resigned than angry.  
“Yes, sir?”  
“I meant that I wanted you to locate a _particular_ man for me. One that I need to meet with in regards to a matter of some importance. Here is his name and the last number we have for him. I do _not_ and never will require your assistance to find a…date. I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.”

Fraser smiled as he practically heard Turnbull squirm. “Of course, Sir. I didn’t mean to imply that you were…you are in fact a very…I’ll get right on it, Sir.” And then Fraser executed a perfect side step as Turnbull shot out the door in a flurry of embarrassment. At least there would be no mopping the floor this morning. Behind him, Dief let out a disappointed whine.

“Tea, Sir.” Fraser announced as he walked into the office Turnbull had just fled from. The Inspector looked up briefly, thanked him and went back to staring at her computer screen, apparently engrossed in something. So he served her and left.

He stopped at Turnbull’s desk on his way out and placed the tray down as far from the other man as he possibly could without leaving it close to the edge. As he poured a cup of tea, he said quietly, “Turnbull, I wonder if I could have a word.”  
“A word, Sir? How many letters?”  
Fraser sighed patiently, “No, I mean I’d like to speak to you. In private. When you have a moment free, that is. I can see you’re busy at the moment.”  
Turnbull looked up, an expression of delighted interest on his face. “In private. Yes, Sir! Just as soon as I finish here.”  
“Very good, Constable,” Fraser said as he headed back to the kitchen to hunt out his favourite tin cup for tea.

He was just considering lunch when Turnbull appeared at his office door, looking furtive.  
“Sir? I think we’re alone now, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.” He announced in a stage-whisper.  
“The Inspector?” Fraser asked.  
“Left for a meeting. Just this moment, Sir.”  
“Then why are you whispering?”  
“I’m not entirely certain. Should I stop?” Turnbull whispered again.

Fraser toyed with the idea of telling him no, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.  
“I think it would be safe to speak in your normal tone, Turnbull,” he announced with a patient smile.  
“Very good, sir. Thank you.”

Waving the man toward a seat, Fraser stood and came to lean on the desk in front of him. Perhaps it was indecorous of him to place his crotch in front of Turnbull’s face, but his tunic was long enough to hide anything and he felt quite reckless from thinking about the possibilities of the evening ahead. He got a small wave of pleasure from the hungry, admiring look on Turnbull’s face as he raised his eyes in mute question.

“Renfield.”  
“Yes, Sir?” Turnbull’s eyes turned hopeful and he blushed a little at the use of his given name.  
“I was wondering… do you find Ray attractive?”  
“Detective Vecchio?”  
“Yes. Detective Vecchio.”  
“Which one, Sir?”  
“The current one.” Fraser crossed his arms.  
“The current Ray Vecchio, with whom you are currently in an exclusive relationship?” Turnbull sounded a touch nervous.  
“That would be the one, Turnbull.”  
There was silence for so long that Fraser began to fear this was not going to pan out the way he had hoped.  
Eventually Turnbull asked, “Is this some kind of test, Sir? Because I’m afraid I don’t know the correct answer.”

So that was the problem. Fraser moved to stand behind Turnbull and placed a hand on each shoulder. “There is no correct answer. You find him attractive or you don’t. It’s quite simple, really.”  
“In that case, Sir, the answer is very much so, I’m afraid.”  
Fraser raised one hand and briefly placed it on top of Turnbull’s head. It was an echo of their history and he hoped it would give an indication as to his intentions. Turnbull lowered his eyes automatically to the floor and became still. The apparently automatic submission had its usual effect on Fraser’s state of arousal. He cleared his throat and pushed on.  
“That’s very good, Renfield. Ray finds you similarly appealing.” He watched as Turnbull’s head jerked up and back down, surprised into almost speaking, and took pity.  
“You _are_ free to speak. This is hardly an appropriate venue for… well. I’ll get to the point, shall I?”  
“Turnbull’s turned and said, “Yes, please,” with all the enthusiasm of a small child at Christmas and Fraser had to remind himself that Ren was about as far from innocent as one could get and still be honourable.  
“All right.” Fraser smiled. “Ray has expressed an interest in having you at his apartment this evening. He was thinking some friendly company would be nice. Perhaps dinner. It may turn out to be a late night. Since its Friday I didn’t think you would mind…a late night.”

Turnbull’s eyes grew wide and he placed his hand over his mouth before he could make a sound, but it was obvious he was containing a squeal of pleasure. After a moment, he let his hand drop and his mouth run. “Oh, Sir! I’d be delighted. A late night you say. I should cook, a special pizza for Ray and I have just the dessert in mind and…should I bring my collar? What will I wear? Oh, there’s so much to do.” He rose from his chair and headed for the door. Fraser reached out and caught his arm.  
“Turnbull, Ray is unaware of the precise nature of our past liaisons. I would appreciate your discretion in that matter and so the collar would not only be unnecessary, but also inappropriate. Furthermore, I think you should be aware that although I will be present for the entire evening’s…events, I will not be actively participating. Think of me as an observer.”  
There was a moment of confusion on Turnbull’s face and then the full weight of Fraser’s words seemed to sink in. “Ah. So what you’re saying, Sir is that I should keep my submissive nature in check and that you will allow your voyeuristic tendencies full reign.”  
“In a nutshell. And Ray was thinking we could order Chinese.” Fraser smiled, because he knew what reaction that would get.  
“Oh, no. I can’t allow it. Take-out. No, not possible. This is an _occasion_ and I must cook.” Turnbull appeared to grow an inch as he spoke and he looked so determined and so pleased to have a purpose that Fraser worried for a moment that he was getting in over his head here, but he simply said, “Very well. I’ll call Ray and tell him. Shall we say eight o’clock?”  
“Yes, yes, eight is wonderful.” Turnbull muttered distractedly as he started ticking things off on his fingers.

Fraser watched him leave and counted to ten. Yes, there it was. The gleeful giggle that Turnbull voiced only for visiting celebrities and obviously, impending threesomes. He sat behind his desk and picked up the phone.

 

***********************************

  
At 7:15 Ray snapped. He’d been getting more and more wound up since lunch time when Ben had called to tell him that Turnbull was coming over tonight. His doubts had been building up all afternoon and now they spilled out in a stream of what ifs.   
“What if I can’t go through with this?” “What if I totally suck?” “What if you get jealous?”   
  
Fraser let Ray fire off the questions and answered them all at once. “You can, you couldn’t possibly and I won’t.”  
“Huh?”  
“You can do this, Ray. You will be amazing and I won’t get jealous.”  
“But what if I really can’t? And how do you know you won’t get jealous.” Ray became suddenly still, but it wasn’t born of calmness, more of a heightened tension.  
“In the unlikely event that you really can’t go through with it, I’m sure Turnbull will understand. You’d be surprised how sensitive he is. And to answer your other question: I won’t get jealous because this is something you are doing for my pleasure as much as your own. So in effect, we are doing it together.”  
  
Ray thought about that for a moment and the instant he moved again, Fraser could see he was satisfied. He watched with a small smile as Ray went to the stereo and selected music for the evening. He didn’t have the heart to tell Ray that Turnbull wouldn’t care what he played, would barely notice the music unless it was country.   
  
There was a knock at the door and Ray froze, looking at Fraser with something approximating terror. “You get it,” he said with a tilt of his jaw that some would see as demanding, but Fraser knew it was false bravado.   
  
So Fraser went and opened the door. Ray just stood there trying to remember how to breathe and looking at his watch. It wasn’t time yet. He wasn’t ready. Hell, he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready.  
  
“Good evening, Sandor,” Fraser said and Ray hurried over to stand behind him.   
“Sandor! What the hell are you doing here? We didn’t order tonight.” Ray just wanted him to leave before Turnbull arrived. Didn’t want it getting around the whole of Chicago that Ray’d started hanging out with nothing but Mounties.   
“Hi, Ray. I know you didn’t order, but this guy made you a couple pizzas and he needed a lift here. Tony likes him, so…here.” Sandor handed over a double decker bag and looked around as if he was checking for spies. “That’s one freaky Mountie, Ray. But the guy knows his way around a pizza oven.”  
  
Fraser stepped out into the hallway and looked around. He came back in and shrugged. Okay, so no Turnbull out there then.  
Ray dug a note out of his wallet and handed it to Sandor. He figured he should tip the guy for being in a car with Turnbull on the drive over and Sandor was never one to say no to a couple extra bucks.   
“So where’s the guy?”  
Sandor looked puzzled. “The guy?” he asked.  
“The guy you drove over here. I know he ain’t gonna fit in the bag, so what’d you do with him?”  
“Nothing, Ray. He just stopped to talk to some old broad next floor down. Polite Canadian thing, I guess.” A sly look at Fraser and then Sandor dropped his head like he expected Ray to slap it but Ray had more important things to do. Like figure out why the pizza smelled weird.  
  
He went over to the bench and pulled the bag open, but before he could slide the contents out Turnbull’s voice came from the doorway.   
“If you don’t mind, Ray, I’d like to serve the pizza myself.”  
The words were polite enough, but Ray felt like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He felt like defending himself, even though all he was doing was taking a look. Instead, he said, “Smells weird. What’s on it?”  
  
“It’s a surprise, Ray. Tony and I thought perhaps you could use a little adventure in your life and so we devised a pizza that should pleasantly surprise you. As well as a dessert that I think you will find both appropriate and mouth watering.”   
“Adventure.” Ray said flatly, as he turned to see Turnbull standing beside Fraser and clutching a picnic basket. Good thing he wasn’t wearing the red uniform, or he’d have looked like Little Red Riding Hood and that would have been too queer for words. “Like I don’t get enough adventure already.”  
  
Sandor snickered from the doorway and Ray shot him a look that would strip paint.   
“Hey,” Sandor raised his hands in surrender, “I’m just waiting for my bag.”   
“Yeah, sure you are. Give the man his bag, Turnbull, before I have to punch him repeatedly in the head.”  
  
“There’s no need for violence.” Fraser piped up, but he was secretly pleased to note that Ray’s usual behaviour had returned.   
“Fine. I’ll get the wine then. Where’d you put it Frase?”   
“On the table, Ray. If you would be so kind as to open it and let it breathe for a few moments?”  
“Yeah. I’ll do that.” Ray said and shot Sandor a feral look.  
  
Turnbull’s pizza was surprisingly good. Once Ray got past the fact that it had mushy green stuff on it and no pineapple and actually tasted it, he had to admit it was pretty close to the best pizza he’d had.  
“Avocado, huh? How’d you come up with that?”  
“Well, Ray, Tony and I have something of a competition going as to who can concoct the least traditional pizza and somehow this one evolved. I’m quite proud of it. Although I don’t imagine it will appear on the menu at the shop.”  
“Should, though. I’d order it. Bacon’s a nice touch. Goes great with the chicken.”  
“I thought so, too. I’m glad you like it, Ray.” Turnbull looked so proud of himself Ray thought he might explode right there. He figured maybe Turnbull was just as nervous as he was about this whole thing. The only person who looked like he was completely at home was Fraser, sitting there with this look of superiority, like his two favourite pets were getting along. It was kinda hot and reminded Ray what was actually going down here.   
  
Things were going pretty well at the dinner table. Ray asked Turnbull why he decided to be a Mountie instead of a chef, like he obviously should have been, and Turnbull told him it was all about the uniform and the discipline, rather than the police work. Fraser made a little noise of surprise at Ray’s question and said “Ah!” at the answer and Ray figured he must have been wondering the same thing.   
  
They were almost through dessert, which was actually another pizza of sorts, with fruit and shortbread instead of pastry, when Turnbull changed the subject so quickly that Ray almost got left behind.   
“I came upon an interesting discovery today.”  
“You did?” asked Fraser politely.  
“Yes, Sir. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”  
“And this discovery is?”  
“Everything starts with an E.” and he looked so serious about it that Ray thought he must have missed something. He looked over at Ben, who was smiling indulgently.  
“True enough.” Fraser’s grin widened. “I imagine it follows then, that nothing starts with an N?”  
“Yes, Sir, that would seem to be the case.”  
It was about then that Ray got it. He grinned and joined in. “You’re wrong there. Everything can’t start with an E.”  
“It can’t?” A chorus of Mounties. Cute.  
“No, it can’t,” Ray continued, leaning back in his chair and making them wait just a moment for his reasoning. There was something about the way they both looked at him that was stirring things up south of the border, so to speak and he was going to enjoy it for a bit. When Turnbull leaned forward as if Ray was about to impart the secrets of the universe, he spoke. “How can everything start with an E if something starts with an S?”  
  
Turnbull’s brow furrowed for a moment, and then he grinned real big and said, “Well then, everything else starts with an E.”   
Fraser almost choked on his wine and Ray felt a little guilty because he’d bullied the poor guy into drinking it in the first place. But he laughed anyway. This was good, it was comfortable and they were having fun. It was his lucky night, all right. Suddenly he couldn’t get to the real main course fast enough.  
  
He stood up and announced, “I’ll do the dishes.” Because he just knew there was no way Turnbull was going to relax until everything was spick and span.   
“No, Ray. Allow me.” Turnbull stood too, and Ray was faced with a wall of black silk covered chest. Who would have thought that Turnbull could look so hot out of uniform? Ray flicked his glance lower and took in the perfectly tailored wool trousers and shiny black belt. Naturally, he checked the package and was pleased to see that Turnbull had come well equipped for the party.   
  
He grinned up into Turnbull’s eyes. “Renfield, my friend, we’ll do them together.”  
  
So Turnbull washed, Ray dried and Fraser leant against the counter with his arms folded and a look on his face like life didn’t get any better than this. Which made Ray a little bolder and he started brushing past Turnbull as he moved around to put the dishes away. By the time they were all done, Ray was so far into Turnbull’s personal space that it was perfectly natural to reach around from the front to untie the apron that Turnbull had produced from his picnic basket and take it off him slowly. He stepped back and twirled it over his head like a stripper before he threw it at Fraser, flicking his hips a little for effect. He was trying to be funny, but no one laughed.   
  
Fraser just caught the apron and put it on the bench behind him as he stood up straight and said, “Bedroom,” in that growly way he had when he was turned on. And Ray was all over that. He grabbed Turnbull by the hand and tugged him into motion before putting a hand on his back and guiding him in the right direction. It was almost like dancing. Only maybe better, because dancing didn’t always get him where he was going now.  
  
Things were a little awkward once they got there. Ray didn’t quite know what to do with himself. It wasn’t like things had just happened and they’d ended up in the bedroom. It felt kind of unnatural, coming in all dressed and not pawing each other and so he stood there looking at Turnbull and then at Fraser. He got some inspiration there. Fraser did that lip licking thing and gave Ray one of those dirty smiles that usually meant, “Touch yourself for me,” and Ray decided he should tackle this just like everything else he did. Head on.  
  
He reached up and placed a hand on the back of Turnbull’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. It had been so long since he’d kissed anyone that much taller than him and it felt a little weird not being able to get real close, but Turnbull kissed him back hesitantly and it was a start. He moved his hand down to Turnbull’s shoulder, feeling the soft silk play over the hardness beneath and then wrapped his other arm around Turnbull’s waist and pulled. He heard Fraser sigh a soft, “Yes,” behind him and that seemed to be what Turnbull needed to give it up. Suddenly he was being engulfed in strong arms and he had those big hands all over his ass and roaming over his back and it wasn’t Fraser, but fuck, it was hot.  
  
He pulled back a little and said, “Turnbull.” But before he could finish his thought, Turnbull breathed, “Ren,” into the side of his neck, puffing through the little hairs there and he got goose bumps even as he laughed. He kept his eyes on that V of chest right in front of him, but he knew Turnbull was looking at him like maybe he’d snapped. He didn’t waste time with the big explanation though, just said, “Ray, Ben, Ren. That’s queer.” And he felt a little rumble from Turnbull’s chest, which might have been a silent laugh or something else entirely. He didn’t much care. All he wanted now was more.   
  
When he reached between them to start on Ren’s shirt buttons, he heard Ben moving behind him and felt a kiss on the back of his neck. Like a reward for being a naughty boy. He figured he could get used to that, could learn all kinds of new naughtiness to get rewards like that, but Ben moved past him to the chair he’d placed beside the bed and left Ray to play with his new toy all alone.   
  
It was like undressing G.I. Joe, only bigger. Smooth hard skin and this weird stillness. Sure Turnbull was warmer than any action figure he’d played with as a kid, and as he removed Turnbull’s shirt he hoped there was more than just a rounded bulge in those trousers, but he was getting about as much feedback as he would from a doll. So he leaned in and nipped Ren’s collar bone and that got little more than a sharp intake of breath and a tightening of the hands on his hips for his effort. Ren was holding back on him and from the hungry look in the guy’s eyes, it wasn’t because he didn’t want this. So if he wanted it, why wasn’t he getting in the game?  
  
“You okay with this, Ren?” Ray asked.  
“Very okay, Ray.” Turnbull’s voice was deeper and less…polite than Ray ever knew it could be. Hotter, even.   
“So, uh…feel free to join in anytime.”  
  
He should have known the guy who could make arguing a study in politeness would need permission to touch back, but once he had it, Turnbull wasn’t going to give Ray a chance to think twice about it. He grabbed the bottom of Ray’s t-shirt and pulled it up so fast that Ray barely had time to get his arms up, and then he was literally wrapped in the guy. It was weird. Good weird. He could feel Turnbull, hard and pressing against his belly and Ray pushed closer, needing something to rub against. When Turnbull spread his legs and slipped one between Ray’s own, it was like a little bit of heaven. They were in it together now.  
  
Ray forgot this was all about giving Fraser a show and it started being all about giving Ren a night to remember. Which was not going to happen standing in the middle of the room if he could help it. So Ray mumbled “C’mon,” into Turnbull’s shoulder and started walking him backwards toward the bed. It was easy, like dancing again. Turnbull moved with that grace and ease that Ray hardly ever saw in him and almost too soon, they stopped, right next to the bed and in front of Fraser in his chair, looking for all the world like he was sitting on a throne.  
  
Fraser said “Hi, Ray,” and smiled happily, as Ray fumbled with Ren’s belt, trying to figure out how to get it undone. It was one of those pin in the hole from the top ones, which Ray never wore and neither did Fraser, but he figured it out while Turnbull and Fraser both stared at his hands. He snuck a look at one and then the other as he worked. Man, these guys had a thing for hands, huh? He wondered if it was a Canadian thing, a Mountie thing, or a freak thing and decided he didn’t much care as long as they were looking at _his_ hands with that rapt attention. It made him feel sexy to be looked at that way, even if it was only one part of him. Made him feel like he was good enough to be having this. This was Ray’s game here. Ray’s rules. And fuck, that was enough to crank him up about three notches all in one hit.   
  
So by the time he got Ren’s trousers and boxers down, (At least _he_ didn’t wear the starchy white ones after hours.) Ray was all go. His skin was super sensitive and he could almost feel the caress of Fraser’s eyes on him as he dropped to his knees by the bed and reached one hand out for Fraser to hand him a rubber from the drawer behind him, knowing he didn’t need words to show his intent.   
  
He wrapped his other hand around Turnbull’s cock like it belonged there and gave it a slow stroke. God, it was gorgeous. Longer than Ben’s, but thinner and cut. It looked almost dangerous with its slight, graceful curve up toward Ren’s belly and Ray wanted to feel it in his mouth, wanted to feel it sliding against his own. Wanted it _in_ him. And it was okay to want those things because Ben wanted to see him have them. Ben wanted to watch.   
  
He looked over and Ben was holding two condoms out, just out of Ray’s reach, eyebrows raised in challenge. For a moment, Ray thought about making a grab for them. But he knew he’d never reach them before Fraser pulled them away and he knew what that meant. _“You can have them, but not yet.”_ He was trying to take control without even getting in the game, which was not buddies, even if it was something Ray could work with. He leaned back into the feel of Turnbull’s hands on his head and looked up.   
  
Ren was half smiling down at him, as if he’d seen the exchange and was waiting to see what would happen next. Letting Ray lead, maybe even understanding what was going on here. The guy probably knew how Fraser got about watching and how demanding he could be when he wanted it. And Ray discovered that he was actually okay with that. It was hot how Fraser was sharing his old fuck buddy with Ray and how Ren was into the idea and how this all came down to what Ray wanted to do, even if Fraser was angling for the slow, drawn out approach.   
  
So Ben wanted a show? Ray would give him one he wouldn’t forget in a hurry. He stood up with a regretful look at Turnbull’s dick and let his eyes do a slow cruise upward. Ren was big, but he wasn’t bulky. Lean and just filled out enough in the right places to keep from being lanky. He had an almost six pack and those lines that were like an arrow from the hips, pointing to the playground. And the pecs. And arms; long lean arms with enough definition to show his strength without being freaky. He slid one hand from Ren’s wrist to his shoulder and, oh yeah, Ren had the whole tricep thing going on. Ray had a thing for a good tricep. It was right up there with forearms and butts and lips. Which reminded him.  
  
He got up on his toes, tilted his head up and, yeah Turnbull was paying attention and leaned down to meet his lips. He was going for the soft, polite kissing thing, but Ray wanted none of that. He wanted heat and hunger to match his own. He grabbed Ren’s head, holding firm and just went for it. Pushed right in and took over Ren’s mouth with his tongue. A second later Ren got it and really let go, giving Ray what he needed until Ray needed more.  
  
So he pushed at Turnbull’s shoulders and stepped back.  
“Ray?” Turnbull sounded a little flustered there.  
“What do you say we crank this up a notch, Renfield buddy? I want nudity and bed and I want it now.”  
Turnbull grinned and the way he tucked his chin down toward his shoulder was a little shy, but a whole lot dirty as well. “Of course, Ray. Perhaps you’d permit me to join you. I’ve learned from past experience that nudity and bed are much more pleasant when shared.”  
  
It was so…Turnbull that Ray had to laugh. No way was he falling for the whole “Welcome to Canada, Sir” thing in his own bedroom.   
“Depends who you share it with. Get on the bed, Ren.”  
“I beg your pardon, Ray?”  
“I said, get on the bed.” Ray was grinning and it was all good, because so was Ren. They’d played something like this game before.  
“Not until you say please, Ray.”   
“No. I don’t do polite in the bedroom.”  
“Manners are appropriate everywhere. In fact, I would say more so in the bedroom. Particularly if you might be hoping for reciprocal attention.”  
“Are you threatening me, Turnbull?”  
“No, Ray. I simply feel I’d be more inclined to pay due attention to your physical needs if I were treated with a little courtesy.”   
Ray stroked Ren’s chest idly and looked over at Fraser, sitting fully dressed and looking thoroughly amused. Of course he’d think it was funny. “Fraser, tell him I don’t say please in bed.”  
“Technically you’re not in bed yet, Ray. But even if you were, I’m afraid that would be lying.”  
“Fraser.” Ray tried to sound threatening. He didn’t think he quite pulled it off, though.  
“I seem to recall you saying please repeatedly just two nights ago, Ray.” There was that dirty little smile again. Ray’s dick jumped at the memory of what had caused that reaction and his brain told him he needed to find a new slant on this. The Mounties were ganging up on him and this was _his_ game, _his_ rules, dammit.  
“Fine then. Last one on the bed doesn’t get a blow job.” And he shucked out of his jeans and jockey shorts in one smooth movement and dove for the bed. Turnbull simply sat down with his trousers still around his ankles and shoes on and raised his legs in the air as he struggled to get them off.   
  
Ray shuffled up to sit at the headboard and watched as Ren got tangled up in his pants. It would have been funny if it wasn’t holding up the naked party time. Fraser reached over and tugged the poor guy’s shoes off for him, but Ray had a hunch it was more about impatience than kindness on Fraser’s part.   
  
As soon as he was free of all his clothes, Ren laid back, head on the pillow and arms behind his head, grinning like he hadn’t just had an attack of the clumsies again.   
“I was on the bed first, Ray.”   
“You think that counts?” Ray slid down so he was lying on his side and let his fingertips play softly over the skin just below Turnbull’s navel.   
“You didn’t say I had to be naked.”  
“It was implied.” Ray’s hand slid lower.  
“Oh.” Ren tilted his hips up to encourage Ray’s hand to move further.   
“Ask nice and I might blow you anyway.”  
“Ray?”   
“Yeah?”  
“Would you please suck my cock?” And how he said that with such a polite expression on his face was way beyond Ray, but you couldn’t ask any nicer than that, now, could you?  
  
So Ray pretended to think about it for a moment and then pounced.   
“Okay!” he grinned as he straddled Ren’s hips. The smile he got in return was just smug enough for Ray to want to kiss it right off Ren’s lips. He let his body slide up as he went and his breath caught as the tip of his cock snagged in Turnbull’s belly button. It felt good and even though he knew he’d never get in there, he pushed against it as his tongue slipped into the heat of that eager mouth.   
  
Ren arched up against him and reached down to cup his ass and it was all aboard for fun time now. Ray was finally getting it on here, with Turnbull. And it wasn’t weird at all. Not the same as Ben, unless you counted all the Canadian talking stuff with the big words and the politeness. Which, since they were past all that for now, didn’t matter. What mattered was this. His hands on Turnbull, his tongue in Turnbull’s mouth and oh, God, those hands on his ass, kneading his cheeks, spreading him. He wanted to push back and get something more going on back there, but Ren was holding him pretty firmly in place. Plus, he was so much taller than Ray that he’d have to let go of that mouth to get there. Something had to give here.  
  
He pulled his mouth away and gasped as Ren latched onto his neck. Turning his head, Ray got an eyeful of Fraser sitting there with a glazed look and one hand idly rubbing his crotch. Teasing himself. The hand that held the condoms he’d taunted Ray with earlier was now gripping them tightly and Ray could see the tendons in his forearm straining. Fraser was right there with him on the turned on scale, getting just as much from this as Ray was.   
  
Ray licked his lips at the sight and Fraser mirrored the gesture, even though it seemed he wasn’t looking at Ray’s face. And when Ren found that spot just behind Ray’s ear, making him tense and gasp, Fraser’s hips bucked up from the chair and he groaned. Fraser was with him in more ways than one.  
  
Ray reached out and put his hand over Fraser’s and it just opened, so easy, letting Ray take the condoms. He wanted to do more, wanted to open Fraser’s fly and get his dick out, but that wasn’t his thing tonight. Turnbull was his thing and right now Ray’s thing was pushing him upright, nibbling on his shoulder and Ray knew if he didn’t get back in the game right now, he was going to lose control of the play.   
  
He let himself be maneuvred until he was sitting in Turnbull’s lap and put one hand in Turnbull’s hair, guiding his mouth down to a nipple. Felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as Turnbull took it between his teeth and flicked his tongue across it. His hips were kind of half thrusting forward and half grinding down, as if they were run by some kind of remote control from the nipple Turnbull was teasing.   
  
He’d gone from zero to really fucking hot so fast that he wished he could make himself think of something else to back off for a minute. But every time he turned his face away from Ren’s mouth on his chest, he saw Ben, looking at them like any minute he was going to dive on the bed and join in. Ray knew he wouldn’t, even if Ray begged, but he looked like he wanted to and it didn’t help Ray cool off at all.   
  
Somehow Ray got his hands down between him and Turnbull and he fumbled a little as he rolled a condom over Ren’s hard on, raising himself up enough to reach under and cup Ren’s balls when he got it all the way on. Ren’s mouth went slack against Ray’s chest as he jerked into the touch and Ray figured the timing was all good now. He pushed Ren down onto his back and slid backwards, feeling rough hair rasping on his butt as he settled over Ren’s shins.   
  
He looked up and saw that Ren was leaning back on his elbows with his hair all mussed and his lips swollen and none of the polite look he wore every day, and Ray thought, _Fuck, this guy is all kinds of hot._  
  
He took a moment to drink the sight in, watching Ren breathe heavily and when he flicked his tongue out to wet his lips, Ren swallowed hard, but didn’t make a sound. Fraser, over in his seat, made a little huff, just like he did whenever Ray was about to blow _him_ , and Ray looked over just in time to see Fraser open his jeans and push them down over his hips. _Ladies and gentlemen, we have lift off,_ Ray thought as he watched Fraser run one fingertip up the length of his cock.  
  
Taking Fraser’s cue, Ray ran the very tip of his tongue from the base of Turnbull’s erection upwards, slow and meandering, making little circles as he went. He could feel Ren holding his breath, staying silent and he figured the guy on the chair should _not_ be making more noise than the guy under him. He knew just how to fix that, though and he rocked his head forward and quickly took Ren in without missing a beat.  
  
He was all set to pull back a bit, expecting Ren to thrust up as he took him in, like Ben always did, but Ren just tensed right up and gave a little whimper, almost like it hurt or something. Which it couldn’t, so Ray just figured he was either being real polite, or he was closer to losing it than Ray thought. Maybe Ren didn’t get many blow jobs or something, which didn’t make sense to Ray, because this cock was just made for sucking, in his opinion. It was so hard and smooth and wide enough to fill his mouth nicely, but not enough to make his jaw hurt. He grabbed the base to hold it out a bit, give him room to go to town and added a little suction as he took it further in.  
  
There was that whimper again, deeper, almost a moan this time. Ray moved his free hand down to Ren’s balls, stroking gently. God, they were so tight. He settled into a rhythm with Ren’s cock, loving the feel of it against his tongue, twisting his hand up the shaft as he sucked upward.   
Ren was breathing erratically now, sharp inhalations when Ray took him further mixing with Fraser’s deeper, slower breaths over on his chair. Each exhalation from both men ending in something like a grunt, so that it seemed to Ray almost like he was sucking both of their dicks at the same time. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. His own cock was demanding attention and it took a supreme effort to deny it.  
  
Turnbull gripped Ray’s shoulders hard and Ray knew he was pushing this close to the line. He didn’t want Turnbull to get off just yet, but he wanted it to be his decision to pull away, wanted Turnbull to think he wasn’t paying attention until the last minute. He tugged a little at Ren’s balls, going for almost, but not quite painful, hoping it would distract him for a moment and then Ray let go on the upstroke, sitting up abruptly.   
  
He watched Ren’s face, thought how good he looked, panting and with his eyes closed as he struggled for some control. Ray reached down and took himself in hand while he waited for Ren to come back from the edge.   
  
He shifted his gaze to Fraser, who was stroking himself in time with Ray’s movements, eyes riveted on Ray’s hand and that tongue just peeking out from between his lips like it always did when he was totally into it. Ray’s own hand tightened and he pumped himself harder, gasping a little, feeling the heat rising in him. God, why didn’t he ever get to watch _Ben_ do this? Why didn’t they do it _together_ sometimes?  
  
Ray’s attention was drawn back to the bed as Ren moved beneath him, reaching for the condom Ray had abandoned earlier. The promise that gesture held was almost too tempting and Ray scooted up onto Ren’s thighs and shook his head before he had time to give in to it. If he let Ren go there, no way would he be able to hold on long enough for the best bit.  
  
“I was last on the bed, remember. No blow job for me tonight.” He smiled slow and lazy, “Maybe you’d better just get to the fucking me part.”   
  
Ren’s eyes widened and he looked almost confused for a minute, interested, but pretty unsure of himself. Ray moved up further and kissed that look right off his face, hard and dirty. He patted the bed next to him, hoping that Ben was paying enough attention to know what he wanted and when he felt the tube touch his fingers, he reached out and grabbed the hand that was just retreating. A quick squeeze of the fingers to say _thanks buddy_ , and he grabbed the lube. Here was Ray, getting it on with another guy and they were still a duet. That was something he’d have to share later, when words were actually important. When Ray wasn’t so wired that every brain cell was busy below his waist.  
  
He felt Ren’s hand slide down his belly, reaching for him and he sat up and held the lube up like a prize. And just like that, Ren’s face got all _concerned_ again. So it looked like maybe he wasn’t going to get away with this without a conversation, after all.   
“You cool with this, Ren? Ready to rock and roll?”  
Turnbull took a deep breath and went a shade of pink that Ray was starting to think they taught at Mountie school. “Actually, Ray, I assumed you’d be…”  
Ray raised his eyebrows and waited, because he knew Turnbull was never lost for words for very long. And sure enough, out it came at a hundred miles an hour.   
“You must think me terribly presumptuous, but I assumed I would be on the receiving end this evening. You see, that’s my usual preference and, coupled with the fact that you have quite a forceful personality, I imagined you would prefer to take a more dominant role.”  
  
Ray grinned. Yeah, he’d been wondering if this was going to be an issue. He opened the lube and poured some on his fingers, slicked it over Ren’s dick, stroking while he spoke. “I love how you Mounties can say all those big words in a row and still stay hard. Me? I’m all about the grunts and the pointing. So, in small words, tell me. Do you _want_ to fuck me? Or do we just go with something else?”  
  
“No. I mean yes. I mean I want to.” Ren looked like someone had just told him the Queen was coming to stay. Which gave Ray a pretty good buzz. Not only was he going to get what he wanted, but Ren wanted it maybe more than he did. And that was a whole lot right now.   
  
He had to make sure Ben was still cool with it, though, before he could let himself get too into it. He shot Fraser a look to check and oh God, that was nearly enough to do him in, right there. Ray could see why the lube arrived so quickly.   
Ben had helped himself to some first and he was stroking himself real slow with one hand while the other was reaching lower, massaging his balls. God he looked so perfect there, sprawled out in a most un-Mountie like manner, with his feet on the bed and his ass almost off the edge of the chair and his head tilted back enough to keep his gaze fixed on the action.   
  
Turnbull must have looked over too, because Ray heard him say “Oh” in a breathy sort of voice. So Ray leaned right down to Ren’s ear and watched him watching Ben and said, “If you don’t do me soon, Ren, Fraser’s gonna bust something over there.”  
  
Maybe he should have been a little more subtle, because Ray found himself tipped onto the bed, right next to Fraser’s feet, with Ren leaning over him and pulling his legs up before he had time to think. And really, thinking was over-rated anyway.  
“Like this, Ray?” Ren asked roughly.   
“Uh, yeah. This is good, this is great.” Ray realised he was still holding the lube and sort of waved it at Ren, who took it and squeezed a whole heap onto his fingers. Ray felt it drip cold onto his belly and gasped. He half expected an apology, but Ren had his eyes on Fraser and Ray really didn’t blame him. The problem was this wasn’t getting him any closer having something _in him, dammit._ So he grabbed Ren’s hand and guided it down between them, hoping that’d give the guy a clue. It did.   
  
Ren looked down and it was like he just realised where this was going. His eyes widened and he wrapped his slick hand around Ray for a moment, giving a couple of slow, mind blowing stokes before he slipped it under to press one finger against his opening.   
  
Ray sighed deep as it went in. Finally, he was getting some action here. He let his hips roll a little to show Ren he could take it and then there were two fingers and Ray was feeling fine, but he wanted it all and he wanted it now. He bucked and growled, “C’mon.”  
  
Turnbull rose up and moved right in close and Ray held his breath, raised his hips in invitation. Oh, yeah. Any second now, he was going to get it. And then Turnbull backed off at the last moment. Ray shot him a look that was as much disappointment as it was impatience, but Turnbull wasn’t looking at him. No, Turnbull was looking at Fraser. Fraser’s feet to be precise. And since it didn’t look like Ren was getting off on the view, Ray figured something wasn’t right here.   
  
“What?” he asked, and he probably sounded pissed, but hey, he was left hanging here and that wasn’t buddies.   
  
Turnbull didn’t say a word, just kept staring at Ben’s feet like he was expecting a kick in the head and it dawned on Ray right then that maybe Fraser wasn’t kidding when he said his thing with Turnbull was nothing like his thing with Ray. It sure looked a whole lot like something else right now.  
  
He scooted back and sat up, wondering what the hell to do here. This was his game and Fraser was over there changing the rules somehow and not even saying a word. He was just sitting there with his hand on his dick, breathing hard and looking at the bed where Ray had just been sprawled out waiting to be fucked.  
  
“Frase!”  
Fraser’s eyes snapped up to meet Ray’s and Ray continued, a little less harshly. “You wanna tell me what’s going on here? You get cold feet or something?”  
“No, Ray. I’m sorry. It’s just…could you roll over?” No please there, but at least he wasn’t giving orders, so Ray was cool with it, if Ben wanted to see him get it from behind, Ben could see him get it from behind. No problem. But that wasn’t the issue.  
“I can do that, Ben, but do you think you could _not_ order around the guy I’m getting it on with? Kinda takes the spontaneity out of it.” He couldn’t help but smile as he said it and was relieved when Ben smiled back.  
“I can do that, Ray.”  
“Good, thanks.” Ray rubbed one foot up Turnbull’s thigh and called his name. It took a second before Turnbull bought his eyes up and when he did, he looked a little sheepish, like he’d done something wrong and was going to own up to it and beg forgiveness. But his cock was still rock hard and he was breathing pretty hard, so Ray knew he’d gotten some kind of kick out of Ben stopping him back there. Which was cool, as long as Ray was still going to get his own kicks.  
  
“You with me, Ren?”  
“Mm hmm” Ren nodded and put his hand out to stroke Ray’s belly.  
“Wanna fuck me now?”   
“Dumb question, Ray.”  
  
Ray huffed a little laugh as he rolled over; tucking his legs up as he went so he didn’t kick anything valuable on the way and grabbed a pillow to stuff under himself. He shot Ben a look when he realised whose pillow he’d grabbed, but Ben just breathed in real deep though his nose and made a little noise like a hum and Ray had a hunch he’d be sniffing that pillow later, even after they changed the sheets. Freak.  
  
He got comfortable and humped the pillow a little, just because it felt good and then Ren was all over his back, nuzzling at Ray’s neck and stroking down his side with feather light touches. Ray shivered and humped the pillow a little harder. He grunted with impatience and Turnbull was quick on the uptake tonight, because he started nibbling his way down Ray’s spine, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake. And then his fingers were opening Ray up and making him catch his breath as he felt them stroke over his hole. This was it, for sure this time, and Ray pushed his ass up a little higher in anticipation.  
  
He shuddered a little as he felt something wet nudge against him. Then that wet something seemed to spread out and it was plastered against him, covering him, not _in_ him. He tried to think, but it didn’t make sense until he felt a flickering pressure against the wetness. That was a tongue! That was Turnbull with his mouth on Ray’s ass and oh, man, he didn’t see that coming. But no way was he going to complain.   
  
His brain did a quick rerun and he guessed that wet thing had been the other condom, or something like that, but he didn’t have a clue how it got from the packet to his ass unless the Mounties were ganging up on him. If that was the case, he’d have to thank them later, because right now he was having a hard time remembering how to breathe.   
He shoved his face into the mattress and tried to keep still, he really did, but his hips were doing their own thing, sort of half moving back and forward and not getting enough joy from either direction, but getting plenty from both together.   
  
He was heading for the edge pretty fast here, and he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to take a running jump and freefall all the way to coming his brains out. He turned his head to get more breath, needed more now he was so close, and as he half opened his eyes, he saw Ben staring, hand working his cock and Ray tensed up, trying to think of something else to concentrate on that would cool him down a bit. He wanted more time to enjoy the sight in front of him. But that tongue swirling around him back there was distracting and if it didn’t stop soon, the game would be over. Score: Ray 1 Mounties 0. Which was not how this was supposed to go down.  
  
So Ray somehow managed to make his voice say, “Ren. Don’t make me beg, here.” And thank God or someone, Turnbull pulled off and Ray could breathe for a second and think about how Dief was out there probably eating what was left of that dessert pizza. It pulled him out of the danger zone enough that when he felt Ren’s hand on the small of his back he knew he was going to get a few good minutes of Ren inside him before he lost it for real.   
  
Ray watched Ben’s face as he felt Ren push in, slow and steady. He made himself keep his eyes open even though he wanted to just lie there and feel Turnbull inside him. Ben was looking down to where Ren was sinking into Ray and his face was flushed, his breathing harsh. He looked like he wasn’t even on the same planet anymore. Like he was in a world of his own, where there was nothing but the two men in front of him and his own hand on his cock.   
  
If it looked half as good to Ben as it felt to Ray, then this was going to be burned into his brain for fucking _ever._ Because this was like nothing Ray’d ever felt before. It was almost as if Ben’s eyes on him were actually touching his skin, warming it with the heat Ray saw there. Turnbull was moving in him now and the angle was fucking perfect, and Turnbull’s hands on his hips were holding him down and pressing him into the pillow, giving his dick something to be happy about, too.   
  
He reached his arm out and gripped the edge of the mattress hard, needing to hang on to something. It didn’t get any better than this.   
  
Until Ben spread his legs a little, giving Ray a perfect view of Ben’s hand working himself, slower now, like he was keeping pace with Turnbull’s thrusts.   
  
Every single part of Ray was wired, all his senses filled with sex. The sounds of wet flesh and grunts of pleasure came faster and louder in tandem with the building of Ray’s orgasm, almost deafening as he tried to hold back for just a little longer. Not yet! He wanted to see Ben first, wanted to watch as Ben let go and came with that little frown he had, but Turnbull was fucking him harder now, and God, it felt so good and he couldn’t hold on anymore. He gripped Ben’s foot tight and as he gasped, “Oh, fuck” he saw Ben buck up and shoot over his hand and shirt and Ray lost it. Just jerked and pulsed with his whole body, like it was trying to take off in every direction at once. He pushed his ass up, wanting to get more of Turnbull in him, even as his dick got too sensitive against the pillow under him, and Turnbull pulled him up onto his knees, held him there and thrust, hard and fast for what felt like ages before he pulled back onto his haunches and dragged Ray with him, grinding Ray’s hips down on him and finally going still.   
  
Ray sagged back against Turnbull’s chest and they toppled sideways to the bed. A moment later, Ben crawled up to lay in front of Ray, all three of them laying across the bed with their feet hanging off the edge and tangling together like they weren’t quite done yet. He felt an arm drape across him, but he couldn’t tell whose it was and then Ben said, “Thank you both. That was…”  
“Fucking incredible.” Ray finished the thought for him.  
  
Slowly Ray’s breath came back to normal and he felt like if he never had to move again, he’d be happy. Hell, he’d be ecstatic. Right now, he just wanted to sleep for about a month and dream about what just happened over and over again. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.   
  
He was just starting to drift when it started.  
“Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray.”  
Ray sighed, opened one eye and said, “What?” He knew he didn’t sound quite as annoyed as he wanted to, but he didn’t have the energy to care.  
  
“We have to get cleaned up. You can’t go to sleep just yet.”  
“Oh, no, Ray. There are sheets to be changed and I’m sure that chair doesn’t belong in the bedroom and then there’s the small matter of my calling a cab.”  
  
Ray rolled over and peered at Turnbull. How the hell was he back to his chirpy self already when Ray could barely form a sentence in his _head,_ let alone get it out of his mouth?  
  
“Nah, Ren. Stay. He can stay, huh, Frase. Yeah. Stay.” Oh that was good, Kowalski, real good English there.  
“I’d love to Ray, but I have a prior arrangement. A friend is flying in from Ottawa tonight and I promised I’d meet him at the airport.”  
“A friend.” Ray said, because there was something in that, but he didn’t know what until Turnbull blushed.  
“Errr, yes. A friend…of sorts.”  
“Special friend then.”   
“Very special.” Ren smiled shyly.  
  
Ray closed his eyes and mumbled, “Is that a Mountie thing? The sex drive I mean?”  
Ben chuckled, warm and a little dirty. “No Ray, it’s a uniform thing.”  
“A uniform thing?”   
“Mmm, it’s itchy. Any excuse to get out of it.”


End file.
